The Darkest Seduction (Lords of the Underworld #9)(70)
Author: Gena Showalter

Wrath released another snarl. Something is wrong.

“You’re lying. You have to be lying.” Sienna’s knees shook and she barely managed to remain upright. That she could have been so close to Skye and not even realized it…that now she would never have another chance… “Prove it. Prove she’s…that she’s…gone.” A lump of grief congealed in her throat. Her eyes burned, tears bubbling at the backs.

“Very well.”

The air in front of her shimmered, crystallized, and then, as if she were looking through a magical peephole, she saw a bedroom, a black-haired girl sprawled on the floor, her throat slit, her body resting beside a man who’d clearly met a similar fate. A lake of crimson pooled around them, thick and black at the edges.

Sienna fought down her instinctive revulsion—how many gruesome images of those she cared for would she be forced to endure this day?—and pushed herself to think back. To the best of her recollection, she had not interacted with this girl during her time with the Hunters, but then, there were hundreds, if not thousands, of Hunter compounds and cells, and she’d never had access to the database of members.

“That’s not her,” she said with a violent shake of her head. “My Skye had blond hair.”

“So does this girl. You know the black is not her natural color. Her lashes prove this.”

Sienna made herself look closer. Long brown lashes framed dulled brown eyes.

Enna, when you grow up and get married, will you still love me? Brown lashes fluttering innocently as Skye awaited her answer.

I’ll always love you more than anything or anyone.

“No.” Plump lips, soft and pink, and as big as Sienna’s. A delicate bone structure, a stubborn chin. “No.” Acid created a toxin of rage and sorrow in her stomach.

“Yes. When I…found her like this, I scoured her mind, her memories. This is your Skye.”

“No!”

Her sister…lying on the floor. Ruined. Dead. Gone forever, like Paris would be. No longer a little girl, but a woman. Gone…forever… The words echoed in her mind, horrifying and shocking and sickening. Gone…

Is that truly her? she asked Wrath.

Yes. I can see her life, and you in it, but I cannot see her death. Why can’t I see her death?

Sienna locked on the affirmation, nothing else registering. Skye was…was…dead. Dead. Her precious Skye was dead. “Bring her back.” She pushed through the shimmering air and fisted Cronus’s lapels, shaking him. “Bring her back the same way you brought me back.”

“It is not always so simple, even for me.” Guilt, so much guilt in his tone, all over his features, radiating from him.

Wrong, so wrong.

Enough with the babbling! “You’re the self-proclaimed king of the gods.” She shook Cronus all the harder. “Ruler of the Titans. Jailer of the Greeks. Leader of the Lords of the Underworld. What’s one little soul compared to all that? Bring. Her. Back.”

“There are laws of life and death even I must obey.”

“Her soul—”

“Is no longer savable.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That doesn’t change the circumstances.”

“Bastard!” Her palm darted out of its own volition, slapping his cheek so sharply she would not have been surprised to find she’d peeled away his skin. “You lied to me. Said she was Galen’s prisoner.”

When he failed to retaliate, or block himself from further abuse, she struck again.

“You lied!”

“To ensure you obeyed me and kept Galen under control, I did what I felt I had to do,” he at last admitted. “I knew you would not kill him if you thought only he knew where your sister was. And as I said, I have my reasons for wanting him protected for now. But no, Galen never imprisoned her. She never had a child with him.”

Another slap, this one so hard she thought she fractured her own bones. Still he accepted the abuse without comment. “Her death could be another of your lies. Anything to jerk my chains, right?”

Wrong, so wrong, but she is dead. She is dead.

A blink and Sienna was standing in the very room Cronus had shown her. The woman’s body, motionless at her feet. She could smell the coppery tang of blood and death. And here, in this chamber of fatality, there was no missing the resemblance to her mother.

To their mother.

Wrath released another snarl, another and another, something “wrong” continuing to prod at him. But he didn’t know what the problem was, and Sienna didn’t have the strength to reason things out with him. Grief slammed through her hard, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Breath she couldn’t steal back, no matter how hard she tried. The fog thickened in her mind. Razors dipped in flames razed her chest, burning her up.

Her surroundings faded as she waded in and gathered the girl to her chest, clutching her close, letting her heart beat for both of them. The tears finally cascaded, falling, falling, a never-ending river of pain.

“I will return you to the castle,” Cronus said, voice as gentle as if he were speaking to a babe, “and I will give you time to come to terms with what has happened. Your memories will no longer haunt you, and you will be able to leave the realm, should you wish it. In this, you have my word. But I will come back for you, Sienna, wherever you are, and I will expect you to aid my cause. And now…now that you’ve seen what my wife, Galen’s ruler, is capable of, I think you’ll want to, yes?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

THE LORDS OF THE UNDERWORLD were here, on the island in Rome, and nearing the Temple of the Unspoken Ones at that very moment.

They would have a plan of attack, Galen thought. The most likely: all but one warrior would surround him, staying hidden in the shadows, and that one would approach him to speak to him. Unless, of course, they all thought to hide, shooting him full of arrows and bullets now and asking their questions later.

Wouldn’t matter either way. The warriors must know they were walking into a trap. That Galen would not have set the meeting here if he could not use the Unspoken Ones to his benefit.

Once the Lords reached the threshold of the temple, the Unspoken Ones would have them, would whisk them here into their inner sanctum, as one, right in front of Galen, and lock them in place with invisible bindings, allowing him to do his thing.

However, Galen didn’t want to go that route. It was too time-consuming, with too much risk. Not to his life, but to theirs. If he killed one of the Lords, none would ever complete the trade he’d demanded. All he wanted right now was Legion.